


The Finer Points of Home Decor

by emb_pface



Series: AELDWS 2014 [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Minor Violence, aeldws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-17 23:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2327603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emb_pface/pseuds/emb_pface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Eames have guests with poor taste.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Finer Points of Home Decor

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the A/E Last Drabble Writer Standing competition, round 1; the prompt being "return to sender", and a 400 word count.

Arthur blinked muzzily and leaned against the doorframe. In the dim light coming through the windows, he took in the scene: Eames crouched by a dead, half-naked man lying in a small pool of blood, Eames’ knife making quick flicks against his back; another man lay across the way, shaking and clutching misshapen hands to his bleeding chest.

“I didn’t know we were having a party,” Arthur said around a yawn.

Eames didn’t look up, still working his knife. “An old friend thought he’d send over a belated housewarming gift.”

“How thoughtful,” Arthur replied, and made his way across the room, tucking his gun into the waistband of his sweats. Then he frowned as he observed the extent of the damage that had been laid upon the room. “Although it doesn’t really match our decor at all.”

Eames stood then, his grin bright in the gloom. “Yes, it does… clash something terrible, doesn’t it?”

Arthur ignored how his mouth twitched and the way Eames’ grin stretched bigger. “What’s the return policy like?”

Eames sighed and moved over to the other man, who visibly recoiled, moaning at the movement. They both ignored the sound. “No gift receipt, I’m afraid, but we do have a late night deliverer-” he pointedly ground a heel into the man’s hands, forcing a choked cry from him - “do be quiet,” Eames said mildly, regripping his knife, and the man’s jaw clicked shut -  “And a label at the ready,” he finished, pointing at the dead man.

Though blood leaked steadily from the cuts, Arthur could clearly see a block-lettered “RETURN TO SENDER” carved into the skin. He snorted and walked over to Eames. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t forget the stamps,” Arthur said, and kissed him goodnight.

Eames hummed into the kiss. “Yes, darling."


End file.
